


Goodbye

by Kalira



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Death of a Summons, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad, Sakumo Week, Sakumo Week 2020, Support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25908409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: Sakumo has to say goodbye to one of his oldest companions.
Relationships: Hatake Sakumo/Orochimaru
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82
Collections: Kalira's Sakumo Week Stories (2020), Sakumo Week 2020





	Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Sakumo Week](https://sakumoweek.tumblr.com/post/616294351828664322/welcome-to-the-official-sakumo-week-blog-starting), Day 2: Team
> 
> I recently had to say goodbye to my cat [Treacle](https://www.instagram.com/p/CBqU_4rJKXo/), who had been with me for more than half my life (and saved my life, years ago); a lot of Sakumo's feelings and the exact happenings herein are drawn from that day. Needless to say, I spent pretty much the entire time I wrote this (a little over an hour) crying. It is _very sad_ and while there's comfort and support, it remains sad.

“I’m sorry, cousin.” Haruashi said gently, helping ease Touben’s slack body out of his arms. Sakumo could barely see through his tears, fighting the urge to snatch his wolf back from her hands.

“Can-” Sakumo swallowed thickly. “Can he be wrapped in-” he couldn’t quite get the words out, and he gestured jerkily.

“Wrapped in the blanket?” Kano asked, voice soft; he was the actual iryou specialist, Sakumo supposed he was probably . . . far too used to this. Sakumo nodded, jerky and unsteady. “Of course.”

Kano pulled the blanket nearer and Haruashi lifted Touben in her arms, and together they wrapped it around him, hiding away his thick fur. It was not so clean and soft as it had once been; clumpy and a bit thin. He had been ill for a while.

“Thank you.” Sakumo rasped, eyes on Touben’s face. His eyes were closed, at least, Sakumo thought, and wanted to be sick for a moment, remembering other times, other- He shook his head, trying to push away the imagining.

“Do you want me to stay?” Haruashi asked, her eyes sympathetic. If anyone knew what it felt like- What _he_ felt like, right now. . . It would no doubt be one of the Inuzuka. Their clans weren’t related and sometimes they didn’t understand one another very well - the long ago shift of the Inuzuka away from the wildness of the wolf, different paths taken - but they did share a bond in how they loved their packmates.

Nevertheless, Sakumo shook his head hard. He couldn’t face having her here any longer. Either of them.

“All right.” Haruashi squeezed Kano’s arm, and he rose at her side, bowing and muttering what was probably another apology. As though Sakumo didn’t know that he had done everything he _could_ have for Touben.

It _hurt_ , but- Sakumo couldn’t _blame_ anyone. Touben had been with him since he was a child, not his first summon but his first _partner_ , the first he had worked with as a team, and had been for so long, and . . . while summons could live for a long time - far longer than humans, in some cases - he had. . .

Sakumo sobbed as he remembered Touben slowing, stiff and clearly aching even when he wouldn’t admit to it, over the past few months - he had protested when Sakumo refused to bring him on a mission three months ago, but . . . not for long; he hadn’t protested the same again - and then, this week. . . He had rapidly grown slower still, and his speech had been slurred and confused.

It hadn’t been so bad until today, and then it had set on within hours. No. It wasn’t Kano’s fault, or any lack of his skill, Sakumo knew even as it scraped at his raw heart; it was just. . .

A soft sound made Sakumo sniff and raise his head, tensing defensively.

Orochimaru.

Sakumo gasped, shaking, staring at his mate. Orochimaru crossed the distance between them in barely a breath, moving around Touben and kneeling beside Sakumo, arms out.

“Oh, Sakumo. I am so sorry.” Orochimaru breathed, wrapping his arms around Sakumo tightly. He keened into his mate’s shoulder - he was still wearing his flak vest, and he must have only just returned from his mission. He had been gone for weeks. When he left Touben had still been- “And I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

Clinging to his mate in return, shaky as he was, Sakumo cried into Orochimaru’s flak fest, absurdly aware of the tickle of Orochimaru’s silky hair sticking to his wet temple. Sakumo shifted a little, about to pull away, and Orochimaru cupped the back of his head.

Sakumo didn’t really _want_ to move, and he slumped, letting Orochimaru support him as he wavered and exhaustion began to tug at him. It shouldn’t - he hadn’t done so much - but. . . Worry was exhausting, Sakumo thought dizzily, and grief-

Grief was worse.

He was sick and unsteady by the time he finally pulled away from his mate, and Orochimaru stroked his face, meeting his eyes. Sakumo sniffled, bringing a fresh wave of tears, then grimaced. His stomach grumbled unhappily, though the very thought of eating anything made him feel even sicker. And worse.

Orochimaru urged him into it nevertheless, however, dragging him away from Touben - Sakumo whined, and Orochimaru hushed him softly, nuzzling his cheek and stroking his arm - and nudging him just inside. “You need to eat or you’ll collapse, wolf-heart. I’ll make a place for him,” Orochimaru said, and Sakumo’s heart clenched, “just eat a little something, please?”

Sakumo mechanically ate an onigiri, not quite sure what the filling was even though he knew he had made them. Orochimaru shed his flak vest and went back outside, and Sakumo wondered if it was entirely due to his stomach that his mate had forced him away and inside.

Sakumo didn’t need to see Orochimaru- Didn’t need to see-

He pictured the grave that would need to be made for Touben and sobbed through his last few bites.

He had barely finished before Orochimaru returned, helping him to his feet - he swayed, and then shook himself, huffing. He nodded as Orochimaru hummed softly, and walked outside with his mate, hand-in-hand.

Touben wasn’t where he had been, but Sakumo saw his wolf soon enough as Orochimaru walked with him to a quiet corner of the extensive grounds. There was a large hole beside him and Sakumo sank to his knees there, almost sliding over the edge into it.

“Is this all right?” Orochimaru asked, stroking his shoulder.

Sakumo nodded, taking a moment to drag out his voice. “It’s- It’s good. Peaceful.”

Orochimaru nodded, squeezing his shoulder.

“I should-” Sakumo raised his hands, then dropped them.

“Take as long as you need.” Orochimaru said firmly, and Sakumo bit his lip, tasting salt. More tears ran down his cheeks. They sat there in silence for a time, the trees above them rustling softly. It _was_ peaceful, calm. Close by their den, but not . . . too close, he thought. He couldn’t take his eyes off Touben’s face.

After a while Sakumo explained, a little, what had happened. Talked about Touben. He wasn’t sure how much sense he made, nor what his mate already knew of what he said, but Orochimaru listened and squeezed his hand from time to time, murmuring in response when Sakumo paused.

Eventually Sakumo fell silent, glancing at the hole. The _grave_.

He looked back at Touben, and reached out, fingers shaking. He slid them under Touben’s shoulder, reaching further, and began to lift-

Sakumo shuddered and pulled his hands back. He had felt the beginnings of the limp, giving weight and he just-

“I- I can’t.” Sakumo said, his already rough voice cracking. He broke into a fresh wave of sobs, and Orochimaru crooned, moving closer, sliding an arm around Sakumo’s shoulders and pulling him in firmly.

Sakumo shuddered, then sagged, leaning heavily against his mate. His eyes ached from crying. His fingers ached from being so tightly fisted as he struggled to master his reactions. His jaw ached from tension. His _heart_ ached.

“I’ll do it, darling.” Orochimaru said softly, and Sakumo sobbed against his shoulder, turning closer, burying his face against his mate’s neck. “When you’re ready.”

Sakumo was _never_ going to be ready, he thought, swallowing around a choking lump in his throat. He twisted a little, looking at Touben’s slack face, head resting on the deep green blanket that he had been wrapped in.

Sakumo reached out again, but his fingers trembled weakly.

“When you’re ready.” Orochimaru said gently, swaying a little, holding him tightly. It perhaps should have hurt, Sakumo thought faintly, but it only felt . . . very grounding. He dropped his hand to his mate’s thigh and clung tight.

Orochimaru rocked with him, one arm tight around his shoulders and the other hand slowly sweeping up and down his side.

Sakumo wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, in the gathering dusk. It felt endless, but it also felt . . . far too short a time.

He reached out, surprised by how steady he was this time, and brushed his fingertips over the blanket, over Touben’s shoulder.

“Can you. . .” Sakumo began, breath catching.

“Of course, wolf-heart.” Orochimaru said softly, resting their heads together for a moment. “Are you ready?”

Sakumo nodded, expression twisting, and Orochimaru pulled away slowly, sliding a hand down Sakumo’s back. He knelt by Touben, smoothing a hand over his cheek and one limp ear, then drew the blanket over his face, tucking it around him neatly. Sakumo was silent this time, even as fresh tears coursed down his face, hands pressing against his thighs.

Orochimaru gathered Touben up as though he were precious and fragile. Touben sagged in his arms, but Orochimaru held him close and careful, shifting over and tucking him gently into the waiting grave. He leaned down, shifting and nudging, settling Touben into place, and Sakumo sobbed, leaning forwards, fingers curling and digging into the leaves and dirt.

“Do you want me to wait?” Orochimaru asked, and Sakumo shook his head hard.

“No. No- Do it. Please.” Sakumo said, and Orochimaru nodded, beginning to cover Touben over by hand, rather than with a jutsu. It was . . . unnecessary, but it was kind, Sakumo thought, watching through his tears.

It took a while, and then Orochimaru dragged a large, flat stone over the heap of earth, one Sakumo hadn’t really noticed beyond the grave. Sakumo stared at it as Orochimaru smoothed his hands over it, cleaning away a bit of dirt.

“Is that all right?” Orochimaru asked, settling beside him again, and Sakumo nodded stiffly.

“We- We should go. . .” Sakumo trailed off.

Orochimaru nodded, tugging gently. Sakumo leaned against him, and Orochimaru wound an arm around him, free hand catching one of Sakumo’s own and squeezing, twining their fingers. “We can sit for as long as you need, darling.”

Sakumo nodded, eyes on the marker, which he could barely make out in the dark. It was plain, and Sakumo thought of what could be inscribed there - Touben’s name, the years he had lived, that he had been Sakumo’s pack, his friend, his partner. . .

Nothing felt right, but- Sakumo couldn’t _think_. It could be done later, he thought. Any time. He knew that. He sniffed. He was exhausted and his head throbbed and his mate was steady and warm at his side. Orochimaru must be tired, as well, he thought vaguely, having just come from his mission and now- and now this.

The thought was very far away. Sakumo let it stay there. Let Orochimaru support him.

“Let’s- Let’s go.” Sakumo said, and Orochimaru hummed, nodding. He helped Sakumo to his feet, and he looked over the grave once more, then turned away, following his mate, vision blurred by a fresh wave of tears, trusting Orochimaru to guide him back to their den.


End file.
